


Keepin' Out of Mischief Now

by Kindassunshine



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8821369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindassunshine/pseuds/Kindassunshine
Summary: ‘I’ll shout,’ Newt hissed through bared teeth. Grindelwald gave his short red hair a hard yank. Newt yelped.‘Keep quiet, and I’ll give you half an hour,’ he growled turning Newt’s head so he faced the case. He felt the head nod and smirked. 
Gellert Grindelwald might be through playing with fire for the moment but when Newt Scamander stirs up a desire long forgotten, he'll use any leverage he can.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta love a bad guy with an undercut... 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was an hour after midnight in a dusty corridor in depths of MACUSA. Grindelwald was walking behind the trio of prisoners, expensive heels clicking with every step. He pulled out Percival Graves’ silver pocket watch, eyes flicking over the faded photograph of a pallid young woman holding a wriggling baby. He was late and he knew the boy would have scampered off already, more afraid of his mother than of the kindly Graves. How wrong he was, thought Grindelwald as he snapped closed the watch, stuffing it back inside his cloak in irritation.   
Graves’ basement office was to the left so he nodded politely to the pair of Aurors as they turned the other way, towards the cells. There was a muffled shout and a frantic Newt Scamander had made a dive for the case floating weightless at Grindelwald’s heel.   
Grindelwald quickly knocked him back, shoulder slamming into his armpit, so that he fell to his knees coughing and spluttering. But not fast enough for Grindelwald to miss the scent that lingered a second on the air rising from the pulse point of the man’s throat. Cologne, old fashioned and English. Grindelwald felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Something he hadn’t smelled in over twenty years.   
Before he’d realised what he was doing he’d caught Newt tightly by upper arm. ‘I’ll take of Mr Scamander myself,’ he grunted, gesturing for one of the shocked-looking Aurors to take the other two below.   
Tina Goldstein looked back once, pale and tear-stained. Grindelwald watched her indifferently. You should have known better than to get in my way girl, he told her without words as she was dragged out of sight.   
‘Follow me, Mr Scamander,’ Grindelwald ordered setting off without looking back the case drifting in his wake all the assurance he needed. The door to Graves’ office opened with a click at his touch and he pushed it open a little, standing back to let the other inside.   
‘Please – Mr Graves, please I assure you none of my creatures are of any significant–’ Newt started as soon as he crossed the threshold spinning on the spot, palms open pleadingly. Grindelwald stepped inside closing the smooth oak door behind him with a soft click. The cool light in the office picked out all the cooper strands in the man’s reddish hair. It was enough.  
Grindelwald raised a hand for silence; ‘you’re best hope– Mr Scamander – is that myself and my department deem that you are criminally negligent, rather than that you are a dangerous terrorist.’ Grindelwald told him smoothly, ‘remove your coat and jacket and place your papers on my desk.’ For a moment Newt Scamander stood staring at him with his mouth slightly open, as if too shocked to process what was happening.   
‘That was not a request,’ Grindelwald grunted leaning casually at the corner of Percival Graves’ highly polished desk. Newt sprang into action stripping his heavy coat and tweed jacket clumsily before shuffling over to Grindelwald and handing him some very crumpled papers.   
‘Sit there,’ Grindelwald muttered, jerking his head towards the nearest chair. He flicked through Newt’s documents; nothing of interest. But wait…   
‘You were in Sudan?’ Grindelwald murmured glancing at the other.   
‘I’ve spent a year in the field, studying,’ Newt’s eyes were shining, ‘there are some species we have never even–’   
‘And during that time,’ Grindelwald interrupted with a single raised finger, ‘you captured the creatures you have now released into my city, one of which has already been responsible for the death of a significant No-Maj?’   
‘It was never my intention to release any–’ Newt stammered, flushed with upset. Grindelwald watched the desperation on his face thoughtfully. The Obscurus was safe then, for the moment. It was clearly not that dark force that had drawn him to New York as it had Grindelwald.   
He looked away twirling the Elder wand once, Newt’s coat instantly standing to attention although it was empty of its owner. Grindelwald inspected it, flicking the wand again causing all the pockets (visible or invisible) to turn themselves out spilling a curious combination of various Magic and non-Magic currencies, bird seed and what on closer inspection were boiled sweets.   
‘Please,’ Newt gasped again, falling to gather handfuls of bird seed.  
‘Sit back down, Mr Scamander,’ Grindelwald barked, kicking him back with the heel of his boot to Newt’s shoulder. He cried out in pain but did take himself back to the chair.   
Grindelwald felt around the collar and under each cuff of the free standing coat. His fingertips tingled at the concealment spell and he raised the Elder wand again. Newt made a soft sound when he pulled the sheaf of letters from the cuff but didn’t dare move this time.   
‘Well, well…,’ Grindelwald murmured as he flicked his eyes over the contents of the first letter before beginning another. Smuggling, he concluded after a moment’s perusal, how… dull.   
‘Mr Graves, I want you to know Tina was in no way involved–’ Newt was panicked, talking quickly but Grindelwald had stopped listening because the letter in his hand had narrow, sloping hand-writing and if he breathed deeply he could almost imagine the writer’s scent rising off the paper. Impossible of course, that Albus’ old-fashioned cologne could still cling to these pages. Grindelwald reread the letter; naturally Albus was helping, out of the goodness of his bleeding heart. Grindelwald snorted softly. He looked at Newt again. Several of the contacts named in this letter were dangerous enemies; a prudent man would monitor such matters closely.   
‘Have you contacted any of the people in this letter?’ he asked waving it demonstrably. Newt’s jaw set, his pale face resolute. He would not speak. Grindelwald tutted, ‘come now, Mr Scamander, don’t make me put in a request for Veritaserum,’ Newt’s eyes widened ever so slightly, ‘I’m sure whatever you have in that case would starve to death before I completed the paperwork.’   
‘I haven’t,’ he muttered quietly, biting his lip.   
‘That’s good,’ Grindelwald murmured tucking the letter into his inner breast pocket, so that it rested against his heart. After a cursory search of the jacket, Grindelwald ordered Newt to stand so he could be searched.   
‘Put your hands on the desk palms down,’ he murmured, now running the Elder wand along the length of Newt’s arms, ‘and if you move, Mr Scamander, I’ll curse you.’   
Having checked with the wand, he ran his hands down each of Newt’s arms. He pattered his thighs and legs down to the edge of his boots, slipped both hands into his trouser pockets pulling them inside out, running his fingertips inside his waistband. Nothing, not a whisper of magic. Nothing but warm, trembling skin.  
Grindelwald had pushed him down by the shoulder until his chin was nearly on the polish surface before he started struggling.   
‘Mr Graves!’ he spluttered, evidently realising what was pressed against the back of his thigh.  
‘Don’t fuss now,’ Grindelwald sighed knuckles digging into the soft part at the base of Newt’s skull, ‘you’re not going to remember in any case,’ he murmured into a flushed ear, settling his weight over the wriggling man.   
‘I’ll shout,’ Newt hissed through bared teeth. Grindelwald gave his short red hair a hard yank. Newt yelped.  
‘Keep quiet, and I’ll give you half an hour,’ he growled turning Newt’s head so he faced the case. He felt the head nod and smirked.   
‘Good boy,’ he chuckled, ‘well, you’re hardly a boy, are you?’ he murmured hand sliding over the fabric on Newt’s inner thigh.   
‘Pull these down,’ he instructed, leaving Newt’s shaking hands to unbutton his fly. Grindelwald pulled the shirt up Newt’s back until he could see pale freckled skin. Newt pushed his trousers to his thighs and Grindelwald sighed fingertips tracing over smooth pale skin. He held him to the desk again, palm across the back of his neck and the other hand slipping between his buttocks muttering an incantation; his small mercy. He saw Newt flinch biting hard on the sleeve of his shirt to muffle a sob.   
He slipped a hand inside his robes, touching himself for the first time. His skin was hot and responsive under his hand. He lent closer hand cupping Newt’s hip, easing himself in up to the hilt. Newt was panting hard, trembling, even his magically prepared body fighting the shock of the intrusion. Grindelwald made a few soothing, shushing noises giving little shallow thrusts until the other’s breathing eased.   
The buttocks beneath his hips were firm, pressing up slightly into his every downwards thrust. He was hot in his robes, sweat pricking at the base of his spine. His thighs were beginning to burn with the repeated, rhythmic flexing. He was panting now; one hand planted between Newt’s jutting shoulder blades and the other digging into his hip holding him in place for each deep thrust.   
Newt was biting his lip, eyes squeezed shut and faced flushed.   
He didn’t look like him, Grindelwald thought hazily, not ever with the reddish hair and besides Albus had never participated unwillingly. He sank into him, hearing Newt softly gasp, pressing his nose to his neck and closing his eyes. The skin behind his ear was hot and smooth, a wonderfully intimate musk that was unmistakeably male and faintest trace of cologne. It was enough. His body sparked, sending a burning through him that was the sliver between pleasure and pain.   
Newt’s soft gasping crying was all he could hear, as his body slowly softened. A dull kind of regret settled on him the immediate aftermath, weakness that he should have forgotten long ago. He straightened his robes and cleaned Newt quickly.  
‘Dress yourself,’ Grindelwald muttered, moving to sit behind Graves’ impressive desk. He sat flicking his wand, which sent a paper humming bird flapping away.   
‘My case?’ Newt asked, his shirt was still untucked and his voice rough with crying.   
‘Will be safe with me, Mr Scamander,’ Grindelwald told him re-inking his quill indifferently.  
‘But you said–’   
‘Did I?’ Grindelwald sneered, Newt was staring at him open mouthed again, ‘and I wouldn’t recommend discussing our little liaison,’ he added kicking the case so that it fell to its side. Newt flinched but before he could speak there was a tap at the door. ‘Now put your jacket on, Mr Scamander.’ An Auror had appeared, nodding politely to Grindelwald.   
‘Please take, Mr Scamander to the cells,’ Grindelwald instructed without looking up from his paperwork, ‘I’ve finished with him.’


End file.
